WesterosKlok
by Phantasmic
Summary: In a freak accident during an electrical storm whilst watching Game of Thrones, Dethklok find themselves transported to the fictional world of Westeros taking up residence with some of the prominent households and factions of George R. R. Martin's world.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I had this idea whilst I was at work today, and decided I simply had to write it. I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but if you guys like it I'll try my best to continue the plot somewhat and add more to it! Rated for violence, sexual scenes and possibly slash depending on what my muses call for at the time and also contains spoilers for Game of Thrones. Obviously I don't own Game of Thrones or Deathklok, if I did I wouldn't be here writing this...**

Mordhaus's living space was abuzz with excited chatter as the members of Dethklok and even some lucky Klokateers were gathered around the large television screen appreciatively taking in the sights before them. The band had recently discovered "Game of Thrones", and were currently watching the penultimate episode of the second series.

"Brutal," exclaimed Nathan in awe as Toki cringed and hid behind Skwisgaar when a poor unfortunate soldier of Stannis Baratheon received a block of stone to his skull, which now lay in several pieces at its former owner's feet.

"Toki, stops beings such a cry-baby dildos," the Swede muttered, though didn't attempt to push the rhythm guitarist away. Despite his cool exterior, even the fastest guitarist in the world found some of the scenes and effects particularly harrowing which only added to the epicness of the show.

"Yeah Toki, itsh only a little blood," scoffed Murderface, eyes lit up in delight as the carnage and battle scenes played out in front of them.

Pickles said nothing, merely stared at the screen from his position sprawled out on the floor, back to the sofa between the legs of Murderface and Nathan. His mouth was slightly agape, ready to receive the concoction of Vodka, Rum and Coke which resided in a frosted glass in his right hand. Concerned that his boys had been so quiet for a while, Charles Ofdensen couldn't withhold his curiosity as to what was keeping them so transfixed and so wandered to the living area from his office to see what all the fuss was about, deeply hoping it wasn't some kind of disgusting porn video again. He lingered in the doorway, eyes suspiciously glued to the screen. Clearly there was some kind of battle going on, and HBO had clearly spared no expense on the amount of blood and gore they used but it was very tame even compared to some of Dethklok's music videos. Quietly, he stayed put to see what else the show had to offer.

The episode was coming to a close, during a scene where Queen Cersei Lannister was sat upon the Iron Throne with her youngest son Tommen, prepared to poison him should they lose.

"Fuck you bitch!" shouted Nathan, throwing his half-finished beer bottle at the screen which, thankfully, missed.

"Yeah, jusht cosh you fucked your brother doeshn't mean you can end the life of your abomination," added Murderface. Charles raised his eyebrows at that comment, but declined to comment.

"Oh nos, nots Tommen!" Toki squeaked, eyes reluctantly drawn to the programme again. "I's can't looks!" All were quiet when the doors to the throne room slammed open and armoured figured stormed in. Even Charles felt his heartbeat quicken; he hadn't been watching the rest of the series but was beginning to feel he had missed out.

"All right, Loras!" exclaimed Pickle for the first time as the knight of the flowers swept off his helmet revealing his identity. Tywin Lannister was soon to follow, declaring the war was won. This was greeted by cheer s of delight from both the band and their servants. As the end credits rolled, the Klokateers hastily made themselves scarce and returned to their duties.

"Wowee, thats was such a great espisode!" grinned Toki in delight, "Has we really ams got to wait until tomorrow for the lasts one Nat'ans?"

"Yeah Toki, cos now I'm in the mood for, ya know, getting drunk and finding sluts and stuff," the singer stated, rising and stretching from his position on the edge of the couch.

"Me's too," added Swisgaar, earning a pout from Toki.

"I need to get me schome of thosche weaponsch," Murderface smiled, the first genuine smile to possess his face in a long time.

"Who knew horses and history could be so metal?" asked Pickles to nobody in particular, shaking his head still in awe of what had occurred before him.

"Horses ams metal," interjected Toki. "likes Thunderhorse,"

"Yeah but that was us, which automatically makes it metal," Nathan pointed out. It was at that point they noticed Charles, still stood in the doorway.

"So, you boys are enjoying this series?" he asked quickly to avoid any awkwardness.

"It'sch the moscht aweschome thing ever!" declared Murderface enthusiastically.

"Ja, it ams so awesomes," agreed Skwisgaar, "I dids not touches my guitar once while it ams on," he added proudly.

"Dude, why have we not seen this shit before?" asked Pickle, almost as if accusing Charles of keeping it from them.

"Well, I'm glad you've found something legal which keeps you happy and entertained. In fact, it's a good idea you're saving the last episode for tomorrow night, there are some, er, engineers coming to Mordhaus and it would be easier for all of us if you were all together and preoccupied for an hour or so. So you, you know, don't get in their way or anything,"

"Engineers?" asked Pickles, probably the only band member to question this.

"Um, yes. They're coming to, ah, check that all the security systems are up to date," Charles lied, though he wasn't going to tell the band the truth just yet. The visitors coming were actually bioelectrical scientists, at the forefront of a new little-known field which specialised in reanimating previously-living matter. Charles thought it would be an invaluable technology to have on board, both for the band and for any potential important figures who might become a little too acquainted with their antics.

"We-ell, i suppose that is important," shrugged the drummer.

"Ares yous goinks to watch the last episodes with us Charles?" Toki asked him hopefully. Secretly, he would have been glad of the presence of another because some of the scenes this season had been emotionally poignant for him.

"I'll, ah, see what I can do," Charles answered non-comitedly.

"Find me some sluts!" called Nathan behind him as he left the room in pursuit of his aforementioned activities.

"Ands me!" called Skwisgaar, racing after him. Charles assigned a couple of Klokateers to the task and walked back to his office. He had 24 hours to catch up with the series, and a lot of coffee to get through in that time.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N I am notoriously bad for late updates, and for this I apologise. Please bear with me though, I promise I'm going to do my best to make this awesome by awesome I mean legible. Oh and for the record, my physics and biology knowledge is very limited. So just go with me on the scientific theories cos it's a fucking story, OK? OK! :D**

Chapter 2 – I don't think that was supposed to happen.

Charles had done well to catch up with the first season over the past 24 hours, he prided himself in his ability to multitask so that he completed paperwork whilst enjoying the medieval mayhem that assaulted his widescreen TV. He was just getting into the final episode of the season, work for the day almost complete when he was interrupted by a knock from one of the Klokateers.

"Sir, Dr Abu Fury has been busy in the lab and wishes to share her work with you," he bowed after delivering the message.

"Fine, I'll be right there," Charles sighed, pausing the blu ray player, still trying to come to terms with Ned Stark's unexpected execution.

The band were gathered in the rec room, eagerly anticipating yet also dreading the season finale. Toki was happily munching his way through a bowl of candy at the same rate as Pickles was desperately consuming a 16-can crate of beer, following each with a tequila slammer for good measure. Skwisgaar sat excitedly fingering at his ever-present explorer, as Murderface rapidly created a network of punctures in the arm of the sofa next to him with a medieval-style dagger. Nathan's full attention was on the screen as the sponsorship message before the title sequence played.

In Charles's office, a different Klokateer on cleaning duty made a huge fucking mistake. He accidentally turned off the blu-ray player whilst dusting. Turning it back on again, in fear he realised he had no idea whether it had been paused at a particular place or not. With potential punishment hovering over his head anyway, the plucky gear at least attempted to rectify his mistake by boldly selecting "play all". Feeling the sudden noise may draw unwanted attention and thus more trouble, he hit pause after the title sequence of the first episode. He quickly completed his chores and left the room.

"No ways," uttered Skwisgaar upon seeing the return of Khal Drogo during Danaerys's experience in the tower of the Undying.

"Bit i thoughts the horse man and babies ams dead," Toki's brow furrowed, not quite grasping the sequence played out in front of him.

"Schut uuuuuuuup!" whined Murderface, stabbing the sofa arm once more for effect. All five men exclaimed at once when the three baby dragons annihilated Pyat Pree by engulfing him in flames.

"Take that ya stoopid purple lipped fucker!" called Pickles in glee, almost spilling beer as he waved his can precariously in celebration.

"So, uh, run that by me again Dr Fury, if you will," instructed Charles, complete in lab coat and safety goggles.

"Of course," Dr Abu Fury clapped her hands in excitement, proud that Dethklok's manager believed in her precious life's work. "We have found that energy, specifically electricity is the key to all life, but not in the form which you are used to. Before now, once living matter had died it was considered dead forever, but no more!" Charles tried to hold back a sigh at this point, he already knew that dead matter could be reanimated. The living proof was in his kitchen. Dr Fury fussed around a machine which was currently hooked up to the corpse of a freshly-dead Klokateer, which were in far too much supply for Charles's liking. Still, he nodded politely.

"Please, continue," he invited, following the doctor as she checked all of the connection points from the machine to the guinea pig laying prone on the bloodstained operating table.

"Thanks to my invention, called the Ganzfeld converter, we can actually turn regular electricity into life-giving energy, or psi, which not only restores life but also boosts the neural connections restoring personality. Well, so i believe. We're still in the early trial stages,"

A hooded figure appeared by Charles and the excited doctor, bowing before declaring "All is ready to proceed,"

"Thank you," Dr Fury grinned. "Better put on your goggles Charles, there could be one big spark here!" Charles tried not to look as nervous as he felt, he had heard a lot about Dr Fury's work and knew she was a genius but still... she didn't seem to be the sanest person he had encountered. But then who would dedicate their life to reanimating flesh and be sound of mind in the first place? Steeling himself, he followed her behind the safety screen where the Ganzfeld converter's control pad was and slipped the goggles over his eyes.

"Three...two...one...lift off!" Dr Fury cackled, bringing the machine to life. There was a loud explosion followed by a flash of lightning, and to Charles' amazement the corpse actually began to move and twitch. To his further surprise, accompanied by Dr Fury's shrieks of delight, the corpse sat up, rose to stand independently from the operating table and began to sway around the room with a very confused expression on his face. It was such a grotesque yet beautiful sight, Charles could not tear his eyes away. Their celebration and amusement was short lived, for the former corpse suddenly went still and collapsed in a heap on the floor. Before Charles could question this, his ears were assaulted by a loud, high-pitched buzzing noise that rendered him physically helpless. The last thing he was aware of was his knees buckling as he came into contact with something lumpy and soft beneath him.

"Hey! Hey! What the fuck's going on with the lights?" roared Nathan, indulging with his band mates in a few post-season drinks. The television was off now, they were just sat around drinking. In fact, the only television set that happened to be on in the whole of Mordhaus was in Charles's office, paused at the beginning of the first season of Game of Thrones.

"There's nothin' wrong with 'em, dood," Pickles shrugged, trying to figure out the best route to get from his ass to his feet.

"Yeah there is, they just... did something," Nathan insisted.

"Did what?" asked Murderface, "I think you're tripping ballsh Nate. Maybe you should jusht go lie down or schomething,"

Nathan sighed with a rumble, and decided that rather than be concerned with the rec room's fixtures and fittings it was someone else's job and he should spend his time doing better things. Like drinking. As he was reaching for a beer, he and his band mates' worlds came to an end. There was an ear-splitting buzz which knocked him to the ground, followed by the sensation he was entering a tunnel and travelling through it towards eternity at lightning speed. A very similar experience was shared with the others, until they all passed out.

After an indeterminable amount of time, Charles groaned as he came to, hands reaching out and feeling something soft, round and strangely familiar. In fact, he was feeling two things that were soft, round and strangely familiar. Opening his eyes, the world immediately in front of him was white and blurred. Quickly standing, he realised his glasses had fallen off and he had in fact just groped the dazed female scientist who he had also managed to break his fall on.

"I'm so sorry Dr Fury," he apologised, holding his hand out to her to help her up before locating his glasses.

"No matter Charles," she winked. "Fuck. I don't think that was supposed to happen,"

"No," Charles agreed, surveying all around him. The corpse was definitely that – a corpse. There appeared to be no further movement from the guinea pig. Klokateers and lab technicians were also recovering at the same time, rising with dazed looks on their faces as they tried to make sense of the last... they didn't even know how long it had been.

"I'd, er, better check on the boys," Charles stated, excusing himself to return to the upper floors of Mordhaus, ready for the tirade of complaints which we no doubt inevitable about their interruption of electricity. Or consciousness. Or both.

He was surprised to discover the rec room empty. As was the kitchen. Surely they couldn't be... that was wishful thinking on his part but he checked the studio, just in case, but it was empty. Charles sighed figuring they'd probably got so drunk and excited during the season finale of season two that they'd all passed out or something. Speaking of which, now would be a great time for him to go finish off the first season.

Grateful for the opportunity of an early night, he slipped into his office, and frowned when it was the first episode which played when he hit the pause button. Blaming the after effects of Dr Fury's failed experiment, he skipped to the last one and settled with a brandy to enjoy the conclusion.


	3. Chapter 3

**Wowee it's taken me a long time to update this! Can only put it down to moving house and being lazy, so sorry about that. Anyway, on with the story! I think you'll agree things get a little more interesting from now on. Warnings for swearing, graphic violence and scenes of a sexual nature later on.**

William Murderface came to with a thud and a gasp. He was on his back with his eyes closed. Slowly he opened them and almost wt himself. Instead of the elaborately decorated ceiling of the rec room, he was greeted by the sight of heavy tree branches against a pale blue sky. As the feeling returned to his fingers, he noticed the ground was wet and cold. Snow. He panicked noticing his vision was greatly reduced – until he realized he was wearing some kind of hood which was partly obscuring his sight.

"What the fuck, how did I get outschide?" he winced as he slowly stood up. "Guysh? Hey guysh, where'd ya go?"

"Have you quite finished?" an unfamiliar voice sneered at him. Murderface looked up to his right to see a stranger dressed in black. He did not fail to notice the large sword hanging from the man's belt.

"Who the fuck are you?" Murderface demanded, clambering to his feet at once.

"He must have hit his head pretty hard," the man called to someone behind Murderface. The bassist span round and began to panic. He didn't recognize the other two men, who also carried big swords. There were no buildings in sight, only trees and snow.

"Not like it did his looks any more harm," one of the others, an older man with dark hair and a beard guffawed.

"Now c'mon guysh, sheriously," Murderface felt increasingly uncomfortable. "Will someone tell me what the fucksh going on,"

"I'll tell you," snarled the first guy, a chestnut-haired lad who looked to be in his early twenties. Murderface thought his facial hair looked like bum-fluff but knew better than to comment. "We're out tracking Wildlings, that's what the fuck is going on,"

"Wildlingsh?!" asked Murderface in surprise. Surely he hadn't heard right.

"Yes" confirmed the bearded man. The third man, a blonde with a dirty face, rolled his eyes.

"Um… okay…," Murderface replied.

"Now come on, try not to fall again and keep your eyes peeled," ordered the first man. Murderface knew that the best option would be to obey. These men had large swords. Looking to his belt, he was surprised to see he had one too.

"OK, Grint," the leader addressed the blonde boy. "Where did you say the bodies were?"

"Right here," the one identified as Grint pointed to a clearing just ahead. The men slowed their pace and drew their swords as they approached, and Murderface did the same. Slowly, they arrived at the edge of the clearing. There were no bodies to be seen. "But I swear, they were here!" Grint whispered, hardly believing his eyes.

"And where are they now?! Bum fluff beard whispered back, annoyance and menace in his voice.

"You know what those savages are like, they've probably carried the corpses off to fuck, eat or both," Grint proclaimed.

Bum fluff beard stepped boldly into the clearing followed by Grint and the other men. Murderface thought it best to keep up with them. The only logical thought he had was that the band had spiked his drink again and sent him to a live –action role-play weekend. The swords probably weren't even real. To make sure, he ran his thumb down the blade and was shocked yet impressed to see a bead of blood appear.

"Brutal," he grinned. So this wasn't any role play event.

"What was that?" gasped Grint suddenly, looking around with his sword in front of him ready to strike. The others were silent, watching their surroundings.

"There's nothing he-" Bum fluff beard began, until his sentence was cut off along with his head. Murderface needed no cue from the others – he ran the fuck away from there. He had no idea where he was headed, just moving as fast as his legs would carry him away from what he had just seen. The thing which had separated Bum fluff beard's stupid head from his body had bright blue orbs for eyes that would even outshine his Scandinavian band mates'. As he ran, Murderface noticed that he was not far from Grint who was a few paces from the other bearded guy. Murderface never caught his name. And never would it would seem, for one of those "things" had caught up with him and he too was now minus a head. Grint had collapsed to his knees in fear as the "thing" threw the head between his legs, before it noticed Murderface and turned to face him.

Seeing the attention was now off him, Grint seized the opportunity to escape. Their horses were nearby, so he sprinted the last fifty feet thinking, despite his lack of horse riding experience or even being around horses, he could grasp the reins of the nearest and leaping to its back to gallop to safety. Murderface wasn't feeling so safe right now. The creature was crouched low, stalking towards him. The term creature was better than man for no man moved like that or had such fucking scary eyes. Murderface couldn't speak, and pissed himself as he prepared to die. As the creature stood in front of him, Murderface had never felt so cold, the piss running down his legs was turning to ice. He closed his eyes as a clawed hand removed his hood – and the creature shrieked and ran away.

Murderface realized he was quite alone in an unknown snowy forest. Where had the creature gone? Realising that wasn't important, he ran in the direction he had seen Grint head in just moments ago. Sure enough, there were two horses just standing and pawing at the ground.

"Schtupid horshesh," he muttered, though was grateful they were there. He had very limited experience of the equestrian world, in fact the only prior contact he had previously had was when he was required to be on horseback for a Dethklok video a few years ago. It couldn't be that hard, and he needed to get back to Mordhaus, or anywhere. Fuck, he was cold.

Choosing the smaller of the two, he tried and failed to climb onto its back. After a tirade of swearing and cursing he spotted a solid rock a few feet away that would give him the leverage he needed. He led the horse to the rock and had no problem mounting. Even the stirrups were the right length. He remembered to tighten the girth holding the horse's saddle to its body – how he remembered or even knew that he couldn't explain – and was ready. He had no idea which was to go, but figured the horse would remember where it lived. They were big animals so surely had big brains right? With a kick and a yell, Murderface gripped on for dear life as the horse lurched into a clumsy gallop which almost threw him straight off. After a few minutes, they had cleared the trees and a giant wall of ice stood in front of him.

"Motherfucker! I know what thish ish," he murmured to himself. He wasn't very good at steering the horse, just hoped it would know the way to the gate which he now knew would lead to castle black, how of the Nights' Watch from the TV series "A Game of Thrones".


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope you enjoyed the last chapter, I've put up two tonight to make up for my tardiness! The format of the story will be slightly different now; each chapter will focus on one area/character so they may be of varying lengths. Not that anyone cares, ha-ha **

Toki Wartooth was woken abruptly by a sharp but not painful kick to his ribs.

"Come on Toki, we have to prepare the horses," a voice urged.

"Not now, I's sleeping," he yawned, certain he had misheard whichever Klokateer had violently roused him. He would be speaking to Charles about that when he was feeling more awake, surely that was punishable by if not death then the loss of at least one limb?

"I can see that, now get up and help!" the voice scolded him. Toki opened his eyes fully and gasped in fright. This wasn't his bedroom, and he had been woken up by –

"Theon Greyjoys," he breathed in disbelief, "Ams you real?"

"Of course I'm bloody real, and I'll prove it with a smack to the back of your head if you don't get a move on," he tutted, leaving Toki's bed chamber yet checking behind to make sure he was coming.

"Wowee," Toki gasped in wonder, following Theon eagerly, excited to explore his new surroundings. Barely having the chance to appreciate his bedroom, he marveled at the huge doorways and sconces with blazing torches that lined the walls of the corridor they were quickly marching down.

"Where ams we going?"- asked Toki, struggling to keep up despite his athletic body.

"Lord Stark has been informed of a deserter. You know what that means," Theon smirked, a wicked glint in his eyes.

"Nos," Toki shrugged.

"Ugh, I don't know why you weren't left to rot on the Iron Isles with Father," Theon sneered as he came to a halt by another huge oak door, knocking sharply.

"Lord Pickles, are you dressed?" he called, putting his ear to the door. An indecipherable response came from the other side. This merely wore Theon's patience even thinner. "I don't have time for this. Toki, go make sure Lord Pickles is ready and I'll meet you in the courtyard,"

"Um, o-okays," Toki stammered, staring at the door.

"Go in you idiot!" Theon snapped. Too scared to disobey, Toki gently and quietly pushed the door open. Recognizing the figure sprawled across the bed on the other side, he breathed out a sigh of relief and closed the door behind him.

"Pickle!" he exclaimed happily, rushing over to his friend.

"Gahd Toki, what da fuck's goin' ahn?" he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

"Oh I don'ts know Pickle. I was woken by T'eon Greyjoys and I thinks we am in, well I don't likes to say,"

"Say it Toki, where dya think we are?"

"I thinks we am gones into da TV Pickle. I think we ams in Winterfell,"

Pickles groaned even louder, and sat up, glancing around the room. Of course, he noticed a skin of wine and clean goblets on the table and wasted no time in pulling out the stopper ands draining half of it before seeming to remember Toki and their apparent predicament.

"So, whadda we do?" he asked, passing Toki the wine skin which he declined.

"Maybes we can finds the others? If we ams here, den Nat'ans and Skwisgaar and Moidaface gots to be too," Pickles nodded in agreement, swallowing more wine.

"Where did Theon go?"

"I don'ts know, he says something about de caught-yarn?"

"Court yarn – ya think he mighta said court yard?"

"Ja maybes," Toki shrugged. "And he called you Lord Pickle, like the Klokateers does,"

"Hmm," Pickles pondered that, to be referred to as Lord suggested a title and power. "And what did he cal you?"

"Just Toki" he shrugged, not understanding the older man's childish victory smirk. There was a knock at the door, followed by a woman's voice calling "Brother? Are you ready? Ned's waiting!"

"Who ams there?" Toki called out without thinking, as pickles put his face in his hands. There was a pause before the voice replied, "This is Lady Catelyn Stark. I was led to believe this was my brother Pickles' room,"

"Mother douche bags," Pickles muttered to himself.

"Oh, er, Lord Pickle. Ja!" Toki replied. Pickles looked panicked and grabbed another skin of wine from the table. Slowly the door opened and the woman they recognized from the TV as Catelyn Stark cautiously entered, accompanied by Sir Roddick Cassel.

"Pickles, are you OK? What's Toki doing here?"

"T'eon asked me to get him to de corn-yard," Toki replied, not sure whether to bow or not.

"And your brother is waiting for you now," she replied sternly.

"M-my brothers?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes, Toki. I suggest you join him and not hold up my husband any longer,"

"Wait!" Pickled interrupted. The others turned to stare at him. "Er, I'm not feeling so good, can I stay here for a bit instead?" Quickly calculating, Pickles figured that if he was the brother of the most powerful woman in Winterfell, he must hold some kind of influence.

"Well, of course if you insist," Lady Stark looked surprised. "Though would you prefer me to fetch Maester Lewin?"

"No, no, Toki is fine," he tried to reassure her.

"All right," she nodded, frowning at Toki. "I'll tell Ned he will be one squire down. The less innocent eyes to see such sights the better," she sighed wistfully before leaving the room. Toki and Pickles breathed a sigh of relief.

"What the fuck is going on?" asked Pickles, to no-one in particular. Now that he had more alcohol in his system he found it easier to think a bit more clearly. He didn't know how long he had been sat there in silence, going over everything he knew in his head. There could be only one thing for it which made sense, as reluctant as he was to admit it. Toki's explanation – as highly unlikely as it was – seemed to fit their current situation and so the drummer had that to work with.

"So, if we're in Game of Thrones we must be in the first episode," he thought out loud.

"How do you knows?" asked Toki, taking in the surroundings now that he had the time to. It was very dusty, and a little bit smelly.

"Well, it makes sense to start at the beginning, right? At least that has to make sense! Also, I think we've somehow been added in. I mean, in the series on TV Theon and Catelyn didn't have any brothers. Not that we saw anyway,"

"We knows dat T'eon had a sister because he touched her privates parts!"

"That's not happened yet, dude. So be very, very careful what you say around here,"

"Trues," agreed Toki, settling in a chair by the fire and watching the flames leap and spit.

"I wonder if the others are here somewhere," Pickles wondered out loud. "Perhaps we should see what we can find out, I mean there can't be that many Murderfaces, Skwisgaars or even perhaps Nathans in these parts,"

"Or Pickle and Tokis!" the Norwegian added, purely so he felt he had contributed something to the plan.

"But we've already found each other," Pickles frowned at him, forgetting how exasperating Toki could be sometimes.

"But I bets we're still de only ones," he insisted. Pickles hastily agreed, taking a look around for wine before starting with their immediate quest. Despite his apparent new-found status, Pickles still felt like he was committing some kind of crime as he and Toki silently closed the chamber door behind them and set off down the corridor. It was their intention to head down out of the castle and head into Winterfell itself in hope of hearing the fates of their friends.

Both men silently drew a breath at the number of guards outside doors as they turned a corner, but remembered they had nothing to fear. Some of the guards even called out to them in greeting. Toki and Pickles smiled and waved nervously, finally reaching a staircase which led to the lower part of the castle, and finally the exit.

It was a bright yet crisp day, and both men were thankful for the warm clothing they were attired in. Taking a minute to adjust to the natural brightness in place of the dimness of the castle, they walked across the court yard, intent on asking anyone they met about their band mates. They were in luck, as a red headed woman who was very easy on the eye actually waved at Toki, rushing toward them with hurried footsteps.

"Hello Toki, how are you?" she asked. Pickles tried not to gape open-mouthed as before them stood Ros, the whore from the TV show.

"I'm OK. Um, do you knows maybe where I can find some friends of mine?" he asked hopefully. Misunderstanding him, she laughed in a low, husky voice and sidled up closer to him. "Well, to be honest with you I think I was more to your brother's tastes, but I'm sure we can arrange something later," she purred.

"But I wants to know about them now," he whined, pulling away from her. Pickles could see she was offended at this slight, and immediately turned on the charm and drew himself to full height.

"Ros, right?" he enquired, grinning wickedly.

"At your service, Lord Pickles," she answered, voice now smooth like honey; here was a rich man who had her attention. He could afford at least ten times what Toki could – and then some.

"Firstly, I might be calling on you later myself. And second, ya know where we might find some dudes by the names of Skwisgaar Skwigelf, Nathan Explosion and William Murderface?" Ros stepped back and looked at him as if she knew he were teasing her.

"Come on Lord Pickles, are you suggesting for your custom I've been familiar with other men of nobility? Although admittedly I don't know who the last one is. Is this some kind of test?"

"Test?" he asked bewildered. "Why would it be a test?"

"Come on, asking a whore like myself if I've known the King's brother, the Queen's brother and something Murder foot,"

"Moidaface," Toki corrected her, seemingly missing what she had said about the first two names.

"Nathan Explosion the King's brother?" Pickles repeated, ensuring he heard right.

"Yes, and Skwisgaar Skwigelf, the Queen and King Slayer's brother," she sighed, now thinking she was being taken for a fool.

"OK, Just checking I heard right," Pickles replied, his voice full of confusion.

"Ugh, and they're not due to arrive for another few days when the King comes to pay his respect to Lord Stark," she added.

"Of course. Jon Arryn," Pickles added. Ros looked at him like he had grown another head.

"Are you OK Lord Pickles? I'm always happy to enjoy your company another night if you are not well," she enquired politely, fearing him ill.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, and tonight will suit me just fine," he grinned. There was no way he was letting Skwisgaar or Nathan have a chance at this gorgeous creature before he did, and although it had been a loooong time since he had paid for sex he wasn't going to turn his nose up at it. Ros bid them farewell and Pickles and Toki managed to find the great hall in silence, where ale was immediately brought to them.

"So. Looks like Nate's a Baratheon and Skwisgaar's a Lannister," Pickles said in a low voice.

"I knows, it ams so exciting!" Toki almost squealed. "I can't waits to show dem Winterfell!"

"Calm down," Pickles chastised him. "All we gotta do now is figure out where Murderface is as it looks like the others are coming to us, and make sure we keep ourselves out of trouble until then,"

"Okays," Toki agreed happily, distracted by the friendly and buxom serving girls who kept smiling at him.


End file.
